The Big Day Begins: A Glimpse of Glory
You know that feeling when you’ve been waiting for something for so long that you start to wonder if it’s ever going to happen? Well, that’s where I was at the start of this particular day—a day I’d been looking forward to for what felt like an eternity. The day I’d finally get my hands on our new (but really secondhand) motorhome, a Rapido we’d already affectionately named “Happy Little Place.”
Happy Little Place wasn’t just any motorhome. She was a promise of freedom, adventure, and, most importantly, the ability to bring along way too many snacks without anyone judging you. I’d spent countless hours dreaming of the places we’d go, the campsites we’d conquer, and the cups of tea I’d enjoy while parked up in some picturesque location. But first, we had to actually pick her up.
Enter Jo and Sarah, my trusty sidekicks for the day. Sarah, ever the responsible one and one of my 3 beautiful daughters, offered to drive us down to Highbridge Caravan Centre in her beloved Audi. I sometimes think Sarah loves that car more than most people love their pets but she is a vet nurse and has two huge doggies. Meanwhile, Jo, my stunning wife, had enthusiastically agreed to us getting a Motorhome, mainly because she was looking forward to rummaging through all the motorhome’s nooks and crannies.
We set off bright and early, making great time down the M5, and arrived at Highbridge right on schedule. Well, actually, we were a bit early, which, in hindsight, might have been the first sign that the day wasn’t going to go exactly as planned.
As we strolled into the dealership, grinning like kids in a sweet shop, the receptionist greeted us warmly. “Good morning! You’re here for the Rapido handover, I assume?” she asked with the kind of smile that made me feel like I was about to get some bad news. And I was right. “Your appointment’s at 3 PM.”
3 PM? My brain did a quick rewind, double-checking my mental calendar. Nope, I hadn’t messed up; we were just massively early. I looked at Jo and Sarah, trying to gauge their reactions. Jo looked positively delighted. “Great! We’ve got hours to kill. Let’s go shopping!”
A Detour to That Leisure Shop: Retail Therapy
So, with several hours to kill, we hopped back into Sarah’s Audi and set off for That Leisure Shop a few miles up the M5. If you’ve never been, let me tell you, it’s a place where dreams—and wallets—are both made and broken. Rows upon rows of gadgets, gizmos, and all the bits and bobs you never knew you needed until you saw them displayed in front of you.
My main objective was to pick up some pipes I’d ordered earlier in the week. Simple enough, right? But the moment we walked through those doors, I was like a magpie in a field of shiny objects. Jo and Sarah disappeared into the aisles, each on their own mission to find something completely unnecessary but absolutely essential.
I eventually found the pipes I needed, but not before I’d also picked up a rather snazzy collapsible kettle, a set of LED lights for “ambiance” (because who doesn’t need ambiance in a motorhome?), and a portable BBQ that promised to revolutionise outdoor cooking. Sarah found a set of tea towels embroidered with campervans—because, of course, every Happy Little Place needs tea towels that match its personality. And Jo, bless her, managed to find a gadget that somehow turns any flat surface into a table. She was over the moon about it, and I was intrigued, if slightly concerned about where she planned to use it.
With our bags full of goodies and our wallets significantly lighter, we piled back into the Audi and started the journey back to Highbridge. The clock was ticking down, and our excitement was building—well, at least mine was. I’m pretty sure Sarah was just hoping we didn’t find any more shops to stop at.
Lunch at The Fox and Goose: Fueling Up for Fun
Despite my excitement to finally meet Happy Little Place, even I had to admit that all this shopping and anticipation had worked up an appetite. Sarah, with her impeccable sense of timing, suggested we stop to eat and Siri suggested The Fox and Goose for lunch. It was a brilliant idea—nothing like a good meal to take the edge off the wait.
The Fox and Goose is one of those quintessentially British pubs that seem to exist purely to remind you that life is meant to be savoured. We found a cosy corner table and got down to the serious business of ordering. I opted for the gammon steak, a dish that has never let me down. Jo went for the red onion quiche lunch, which she declared to be the perfect balance of healthy and indulgent. Sarah, sticking to her roots, ordered the garlic mushrooms and deep fried halloumi. She’s somewhat of a connoisseur of squeaky cheese, and from the look on her face, I could tell this one had passed the test.
As we ate, conversation naturally turned to Happy Little Place. Jo was already planning how to personalise the interior—throws, cushions, maybe even some twinkling fairy lights. Sarah, ever the pragmatist, was focused on the logistics: where to park, how to navigate narrow lanes, and whether or not the motorhome could be an emergency guest room if needed. Meanwhile, I was daydreaming about the open road, imagining myself behind the wheel, cruising towards some unknown horizon with nothing but the wind and the promise of adventure.
I’m pretty sure we all left that pub about ten pounds heavier, but with spirits as light as a feather.
Meeting Happy Little Place: Love at First Sight
Finally, the clock was nearly 3 PM, and it was time. We drove back to Highbridge Caravan Centre, excitement bubbling up like a freshly shaken can of pop. The receptionist greeted us again, this time without the slightly apologetic smile, and soon we were being escorted to the area where Happy Little Place awaited.
There she was, gleaming in the late afternoon sun—a bit smaller than I’d imagined, but perfect in every way. Happy Little Place wasn’t just a motorhome; she was a personality. Compact yet spacious, practical yet homely, and with just the right amount of quirks to make her endearing.
The staff took us through the handover, showing us how everything worked. I nodded along, trying to absorb all the information, but honestly, I was too busy imagining all the adventures we were going to have. Jo and Sarah were asking all the smart questions I should have been asking but wasn’t. Then came the one slight hiccup: no filming allowed. I’d been hoping to document the process for future reference, but it seemed I’d have to rely on my memory instead—a somewhat risky proposition, given how much I was already forgetting.
The handover was a bit of a whirlwind—so many buttons, switches, and compartments! I made a mental note to explore everything in detail later, preferably with a cup of tea and the manual close at hand. By the time we finished, signed the papers, and were officially handed the keys, it was nearly 5 PM. Happy Little Place was finally ours, and I couldn’t wait to hit the road.
The Maiden Voyage: Rattles and Revelations
Driving Happy Little Place for the first time was a mix of exhilaration and mild terror. She handled beautifully, though, and it didn’t take long before I felt like I’d been driving motorhomes all my life. Sarah followed behind in the Audi, probably keeping a close eye on me to make sure I didn’t do anything too reckless.
Our first stop was Asda to fuel up, which went off without a hitch. But as soon as we got back on the road, we heard it—the unmistakable sound of a rattle. It was faint at first, like the sound of loose change in your pocket, but it quickly grew louder, more insistent. I tried to ignore it, hoping it would magically disappear, but no such luck.
Jo, who has a talent for pinpointing annoying noises, quickly identified the source. “It’s the glass cover over the cooker and sink,” she declared. “We should’ve secured it before setting off.”
Of course, she was right, and of course, there was nothing we could do about it now. So, we carried on, the rattle our new, unwanted travel companion. I tried to focus on the positives—the smooth ride, the comfortable seats, the fact that Happy Little Place was finally ours—but that rattle was determined to steal the spotlight.
Sarah called me from the Audi, her voice full of the kind of cheerfulness that’s slightly annoying when you’re battling a rattle. “Just think of it as Happy Little Place saying hello,” she suggested. “She’s just trying to get to know you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to Sarah to turn an irritating noise into something charming. I decided to go with it—after all, Happy Little Place was bound to have her quirks, and a little rattle was a small price to pay for the adventures that lay ahead.
Homeward Bound: Parking the Place and Winding Down
The journey home was longer than I’d expected, thanks to the usual Thursday night traffic. By the time we reached the storage facility where Happy Little Place would be resting her wheels, the sun was setting, casting everything in a warm, golden light. I pulled in and parked her with all the precision of a seasoned motorhomer—okay, maybe not quite, but close enough.
We spent a few minutes checking all the doors and cupboards, making sure everything was locked up tight. Jo had already made herself at home, rummaging through the storage compartments and declaring each one “perfect” for some specific item she had in mind. I, ever the detail-oriented one, made sure I knew exactly where I’d parked and that the security system was properly activated.
With Happy Little Place safely tucked in for the night, we climbed back into Sarah’s Audi for the final leg of our journey. The car was quiet, the three of us lost in our own thoughts, reflecting on the day. It hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but then again, when do things ever go exactly as planned? That’s what makes life interesting—the detours, the unexpected moments, the things that don’t quite work out but somehow end up being perfect anyway.
Settling Down: The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship
As I settled into my own bed that night, I couldn’t stop smiling. The day had been full of surprises, a few minor frustrations, and a whole lot of laughter. Happy Little Place was finally ours, and despite her rattles and quirks, she was perfect. I knew we had a lot to learn, a lot of trips to plan, and a lot of adventures waiting just around the corner.
Tomorrow, I’d start figuring out how to stop that rattle. But tonight, I was content just knowing that Happy Little Place was ours. She was more than just a motorhome; she was a promise of all the places we’d go, the people we’d meet, and the memories we’d make.
And if she wanted to say hello every now and then with a little rattle, well, that was just her way of reminding us that she was ready for the road. After all, every Happy Little Place has its own personality—ours just happened to be a bit noisier than most.
Tips for Enhancing Your Motorhome Adventures:
- Embrace the Unexpected: Not everything will go as planned, but that’s often where the best memories are made.
- Personalise Your Space: Make your motorhome feel like home with personal touches, whether it’s custom cushions, fairy lights, or a well-stocked snack drawer.
- Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff: A rattle here, a squeak there—learn to live with the quirks. They’re what make your motorhome uniquely yours.